Chapter Twelve

Sam studied himself in the mirror. Apart from a bruise by the side of his eye, there were no visible signs of the fight. He tightened his belt choosing to ignore the fact that his recent weight loss had caused him to make a new hole in the leather. Sam smoothed down his jacket and then yanked off his tie and went back to his bedroom to choose another one. The new choice necessitated a different shirt and he started to hold the tie against possible choices.

"Oh this is ridiculous," Sam grumbled as he grabbed the shirt that he always wore with the navy blue tie that he was holding. Sam had only been away from work for two days but it felt like his first day at school. He had not had a drink for five days and now that he had recovered from the physical withdrawal he found all he could think about was what he must have been acting like for the past few weeks. He knew that his friends and colleagues had been supportive but the thought that he had been skulking around the West Wing ignoring, or worse, offending them filled him with horror. And so on the first morning in several weeks that he was going into work sober, Sam felt a need to look as smart as he could in the hope that his appearance as well as his actions would convince everyone that drinking and moping were a thing of the past.

When he entered the Bullpen he was greeted by a smiling Ginger, holding out a cup of coffee for him.

"Did that tie come with the shirt?" she asked as she handed him the cup.

"No, Why?"

"It goes really well. The colors complement each other," she explained. "Are you in a secret relationship?"

"No," Sam gave her a quizzical look.

"I think you are. No man could match a tie and shirt that well."

"I'm a catch," Sam stated.

"Well you can certainly pick a shirt and tie," Ginger assented.

Sam entered his office and started to flick through his messages. By the time Toby arrived he was halfway through a list of comments for an address that was being delivered next week. Toby walked in and peered over his shoulder.

"Good point. That's a good point too. That's a very good point but we can't actually say it."

"Well this is unnerving." Sam stopped writing and placed his pen on the desk. "Is there anything here that you don't like?"

"No, and that's making me feel uncomfortable, so I'm going to go back to my office."

Sam continued to write and he didn't stop until Ginger poked her head around the door to tell him it was time for staff.

Sam spoke up twice during the meeting, once to agree with CJ, and then to disagree with Josh. Everyone was so relieved to hear him joining in with the discussion that they devoted a considerable amount of time to Sam's objection.

When Leo dismissed everyone Sam stood first. "Before everyone goes I just wanted to say that I know I can't have been easy to live with these past few-" Sam stopped in mid-flow as he caught sight of Josh. "Josh?"

"Yes," he answered innocently.

"You've got your fingers in your ears," Sam explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry I thought you were going to apologize."

"I was," Sam said.

Josh put his fingers back in his ears. "Well, tell me when you're done."

A slight smile crossed Leo's lips. "No one in this room wants to hear an apology. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Okay well, thanks, but I really think I-"

"Do you really want to witness the indignity of the Chief of Staff sticking his fingers in his ears?"

"No, I really don't Leo, but I still think-"

"Sam!" Toby warned.

"I just feel I should-"

"Sam!" CJ joined the chorus.

Sam held his hands up. "Okay, okay but can I at least say I'm sorry that I hit Josh."

"You could but I think that's definitely covered under things you have nothing to apologize for," Leo answered.

Toby fought a smile at the look of incredulity on Josh's face.

"Well I definitely need to apologize for getting drunk at a White House dinner," Sam offered.

"Well you know even then I'm not sure you do." Leo turned to the others, "I mean is it me or up until Sam took center stage wasn't that the most boring night of your life?"

"It ranked pretty high," CJ agreed. "Hey! I've just thought of something you need to apologize for- you let me be bored to death by the farmer."

Before Sam could defend himself Leo ordered everyone out of the office. Sam hung back. "I really am sorry you know."

"If I didn't think you were you wouldn't be back here," Leo replied and Sam was dismissed.

Toby watched as Sam refilled his coffee cup. He walked towards Ginger's desk, adjusted the computer monitor and then walked back to his office. He sat down at his desk before returning to Ginger's desk to pick up his cup that he had left there. He walked back to his office but this time stood staring at the books on the shelf. Toby came in to find him reordering his legal books.

"You okay?" Toby asked.

"Yeah." Sam placed the last few books in back on the shelf. "I was just wondering if you still had Mrs Walsh's telephone number?"

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get it." Toby went back to his office and grabbed the piece of paper that had been stuck to his computer since she had phoned. He handed it silently to Sam and left his office shutting the door behind him. Sam sat behind his desk and stared at the number. He fingered his tie absently and then removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He knew there was no need to lock the door; Toby would make sure he wasn't disturbed. He pulled the blinds down though and sat at his desk for a while before he suddenly sat up and grabbed the phone.

Toby was going through the pretense of listening to Bonnie reel off the week's appointments but really he was guarding Sam's office. The office door opened. "I'm just going to go for a walk- get some air," Sam said. He started to head out of the Bullpen but then stopped, walked back to Toby and handed him his wallet. Toby took it wordlessly placing it in his pocket as he watched Sam walk away.

Sam returned to find Toby sitting in his office. He walked over to the guest chair and sat down.

"Alright?" Toby asked.

Sam nodded and closed his eyes. "I walked and walked and before I knew it I was in China-town."

"You walked there and back?" Toby asked incredulously.

"No I had my metro card," Sam smiled at Toby's shocked expression at the thought of walking that far.

Josh entered the office and looked confused at the seating arrangements. "Are you doing a role play?"

Sam ignored him. "I was thinking, while I was on my route march, maybe I should do something, a memorial or something. I don't know it was just an idea."

"No that's a good idea. I think Mrs Walsh would appreciate that."

Sam nodded slowly. "I thought so too. She said Stephen was sorry. He felt bad about what happened. I told her to make sure he knew it was my fault. I taunted him."

"What did she say?" Toby asked.

"That he knew it, but he was still sorry."

"We've arranged to meet later this week. She said there were things that needed saying and there were things she needed to know." Sam sighed and straightened again. "Do I make something up? Do you think she expects me to tell her Claire's last words?"

"What were they?" Josh almost whispered the question.

"Claire," Sam shrugged, "I asked her what her name was. That was all she said to me." Sam suddenly became anxious, "But really though do I tell her that? Do I tell her that she was in pain and looked petrified? Wouldn't it be better if she didn't know that her daughter died hurting and scared and in the arms of a stranger?"

After some thought Toby looked up at Sam, "I would think it would be a comfort to know that she didn't die alone, but I can't tell you what to say. You'll know when you meet her. You'll know what to say to her."

"Yeah," Sam answered quietly then he sat up straighter and repeated in a louder voice, "Yes."

The days passed slowly for Sam while he waited for the meeting with Claire's mother. Toby often found him staring into space and although the panic attacks seemed to be a thing of the past Sam still got very agitated over things that he would normally take in his stride. For Toby the day of the meeting couldn't arrive soon enough.

"You told us not to get them again," Ginger said but her tone indicated to Toby that it was something she had said to Sam a few times already.

When Toby had left the Bullpen Sam had been working at his desk but now he was standing, hands on hips, facing Ginger who looked like if she had a tether she would be holding the end of it.

"Once in a fit of Post-it rage I said not to get them. I didn't mean it. I didn't think you would actually stop ordering them."

"You said mini Post-its were a travesty of stationery and that if Action Man had a speech writer even he would say they were too small."

"You're meant to know when I'm being serious and when I'm just venting," Sam countered.

"If you're so desperate for small Post-its then just cut up the larger ones."

"Cut up the larger ones?" Sam started pacing. "Cut up the larger ones? It doesn't occur to you that I might have better things to do that cutting up Post-its?"

"Well you seem to have time to stand here and argue about them," Ginger pointed out.

"Ginger, order some damn mini Post-its, Sam, go to my office," Toby ordered.

Sam went reluctantly into Toby's office and sat down on the sofa. "The idea that I would order some sort of mass culling of Post-its is, well it's just-"

"If you say the word Post-it again I'm going to demote you to Head of Office Supplies." Toby watched as Sam forced himself to calm down. "You don't have to meet her, if you've changed her mind. You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Sam slumped back and rubbed his hand over his face. "I do want to. I can't put it off. Anyway it wouldn't be fair to cancel now."

"Get your stuff and work in here and try to calm down before tonight or Mrs Walsh is going to think she's meeting with a maniac."

Sam nodded and looked up at Toby.

"Calm down," Toby reiterated.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go get my stuff." Sam stopped at the door, "Head of Office Supplies- would that be for the Bullpen or the whole of the West Wing?"

Toby sat behind his desk and started leafing through a file. "You see how good I'm getting at ignoring you, it's like you didn't even say it."

Sam arrived early at the Hotel. The foyer was quiet, as he had hoped it would be. He went over to the bar and ordered a soda and then went in search of a secluded spot where they could sit. Toby had made him eat lunch but he hadn't eaten since and he wondered if having something now would stop his stomach from churning. He chose a seat by the windows that overlooked a courtyard. He immediately set about trying to force one of the windows open. He thought the room was excessively hot.

Eventually Sam sat down. At first he sat facing the bar but watching people ordering and drinking was too tempting so he moved and sat in the chair facing the wall. He then thought Claire's mother might prefer to sit not facing the bar so he moved again and kept his gaze away from it.

He had been watching people going in and out of the elevators so he didn't see Mrs Walsh come up the stairs. "Mr Seaborn? I'm Catherine Walsh. It's good of you to meet me. I know you must be busy." She took in the rattled appearance and pale complexion of the man seated before her. "Would you be more comfortable outside?"

Sam sighed deeply and shot Mrs Walsh a disarming smile. "Yes thank you, I think I probably would."